The Boromir Saga
by Huinesoron
Summary: Boromir has been sold to a girl... a girl who wants to take over the world... and will stop at nothing to do so!
1. The Sale Of Boromir

This is the final legacy of that-which-got-me-banned-for-a-while. But it's not interactive. It's just . . . strange.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own anything apart from David/Reaper and Sarah/Huntress. Sorry.  
  
* * * *  
  
Reaper: Yes, my only remaining letter is from this girl calling herself 'Raven Firedragon'. Any ideas?  
  
Raven: I've never heard of it in my life.  
  
Raven: Yes it's me idiot.  
  
Reaper: Yes, I *knew* that. The question is, do you still want Boromir?  
  
Raven: Go on then.  
  
Raven: If you must give him to someone.  
  
Reaper: Well, he does so want to be given out now, having been resurrected.  
  
Raven: You can't go to all that trouble and not give him to anyone.  
  
Reaper: I know, it wouldn't be fair.  
  
* * * *  
  
Boromir of Gondor stepped into the room where the Raven sat. Her jet black hair flowed over the back of the chair where she sat, facing away from him towards the bank of computer monitors.  
  
The warrior stood by the door, wondering what to do. He hadn't been briefed on this. He was supposed to have been given over during the show, but it had been shut down. The presenters, David and Sarah, had given him a piece of paper and sent him off to this place. He looked down again at the note:  
  
* * * *  
  
-Hello, dear friend of mine, David.  
  
I think that Boromir should be, and is, MINE. I have a long standing ambition of world domination, but there's only so much that one girl can do. Boromir's ability to kill hundreds of orcs before dying will come in very handy when I "visit" the US congress. Also, his ability to have absolutely no resistance to temptation and evil will be very handy as I plan to make him my right-hand man and consort. Do I even need to mention how handy the fact that he is drop dead gorgeous is? Didn't think so.  
  
Well, that is how owning Boromir will benefit me. Now for how me owning Boromir will benefit you.  
  
When I have succeeded in conquering the world, I will make you the Minister for Fire. You will have access to every flammable chemical in my Army's arsenal, and I'll give you an East European country to try them out in. Oh, and you can have Wales as well. I'll also give you Terry Pratchett, the surviving members of Queen and as much LOTR merchandise as my crime syndicate can get hold of.  
  
Do we have a deal?  
  
Raven Firedragon  
  
* * * *  
  
Shaking his head at the strange language - what in Middle Earth was a 'Us Con Gress'? - he cleared his throat.  
  
The girl in the chair seemed to notice him for the first time. As she turned in the chair - surely she must be a sorceress, to have a magically- spinning chair - he saw her eyes. They coruscated with all the colours of the rainbow, shifting from brown through green into startling clear blue.  
  
"Ah, Boromir," she said, her voice tinted with sarcasm, "I'm glad you could make it."  
  
"I'm sorry, ma'am, but the modes of transport in this place confuse me. It took hours to get through the Valar-forsaken traffic."  
  
"Ah, well, you're here now. Thank you, David."  
  
She spoke the last to thin air. The warrior wondered what she was doing, until the voice of the presenter David came back.  
  
"That's alright, Raven. Now, don't do anything silly with him. I'll expect a full report."  
  
"You know me far too well."  
  
"Of course. Don't die on me."  
  
"I won't. I've got Boromir to protect me."  
  
"That's what I'm afraid of."  
  
She shook her head in exasperation, then hit a button which apparently stopped the presenter from speaking. Then she turned back to Boromir.  
  
"So," she said, her eyes gleaming, "what shall we do first?"  
  
Well? What d'you think? Is it worth me continuing, or should I just give the next bits to Raven? Why not review and tell me?  
  
hS 


	2. Arrangements

Well, I guess you didn't like this one too much. Only three reviews? Frankly, you people disgust me. Still, I suppose I'd better answer them anyway:  
  
Legolas Stalker Tay: If it was up to me, I certainly would. But I'll have to check with the Raven. I'm sure she'll agree, though . . .  
  
HappyBunny: Um . . . you seem to have missed the point here. *I* get to be Minister for Fire. The letter was to *me*. But I've got no use for colouring books, so you can have one once Raven takes over. I promise.  
  
Raven Firedragon: Hello again, dear. I'd never have guessed that you'd review. Don't worry, I'll make you more notorious than you can possibly imagine. As for the other . . . if I say yes, I suspect other people will ask for them, ff.net will decide this is an auction (which it isn't) and shut me down again. So . . . let's settle this away from here, yes? (Anyone else reading, you'll find out if she got them when they show up here). My 'Loving Friend'? Aren't we getting a bit poetic here?  
  
Now that I've had a nice chat with two people I'm never gonna meet and one who I know very well indeed, let's get on with this thing, shall we?  
  
* * * *  
  
Boromir was very confused. The Raven, his new Master, had given him a quick tour of her complex before handing him a strange device called a Lapt Op and telling him to learn how to use it.  
  
Having been taught the language of this strange land before being sold off, this was relatively easy. He had reported back to her after two days, at which point she had given him a ticket for an 'Aerop Lane' and instructions to contact her via the Inter Net when he reached the place the Aerop Lane was going to: Washing Ton.  
  
Apparently this Washing Ton was a city similar to Minas Tirith, his former home, except larger and without the mountain. This made no sense, of course - since the fall of Osgiliath, Men had always built on mountainsides for defence. Nevertheless, he could not argue with the Raven. So, with suitably low expectations, he set off.  
  
* * * *  
  
Raven: Warrior is en route to Washington.  
  
Reaper: Huntress is on station in London.  
  
Raven: I'm heading out to check on the Device and its transport.  
  
Reaper: Okay. Be careful, Raven.  
  
Raven: As ever, Reaper. Go in peace.  
  
Reaper: Go in peace.  
  
* * * *  
  
Boromir shuddered as he stepped out of the Air Port. The Raven hadn't told him that an Aerop Lane was a huge metal bird! He'd have nightmares about that for weeks now! Still, he supposed that she was used to such things, being a native of this strange world.  
  
Remembering his instructions, he pulled the Lapt Op from his bag and connected it to another strange device, the Mob Isle Fone. When the machine went 'beep' he tapped out, slowly due to his lack of practice, 'Warrior' - that was the name they'd told him to use - 'has arrived.'  
  
Almost immediately, a reply came back. Black letters appeared on the window of the Lapt:  
  
Reaper: Well done, Warrior. Raven isn't online right now, so I have to give you your instructions. Look at the map on your screen.  
  
An image appeared on the window. It appeared to be a map of a city, although the scale was blatantly wrong. This thing was ten times larger than Osgiliath in its prime! Still, he supposed with a smile, he should humour them.  
  
Warrior: I see it.  
  
Reaper: We need you to watch the building marked 'Hall'. Note down when people come and go, when the most will be there, that sort of thing. Raven will contact you at a later date. Go in peace. Reaper out.  
  
Shaking his head, Boromir folded the Lapt up, put it away, and started walking. These people really were very strange.  
  
* * * *  
  
Well? What did you think? Was it interesting? Do you want to see more? Do you think that my descriptions of America are woefully inaccurate (Quite likely, as I've never been there)? Do you absolutely hate me for some inexplicable (or even explicable) reason? If the answer to any of these is yes, you may want to review and tell me. Or even if none of them apply to you. Please? I do like reviewers, and Raven may decide to kill you if you don't review.  
  
Please?  
  
hS 


	3. We Never Had Any Introductions, Did We?

More popular than I thought, then. Or maybe it's just the large gap between updates. Sorry . . .  
  
HappyBunny: Sense? My story? Oh, my. And you can have lots and lots of merchandise, if and when this actually happens. Hey . . . we'll even make you Minister for LOTR Merchandise! How's that?  
  
Crazy Mental Person: You likes? Great! And poor Boz is so confused.  
  
Raven Firedragon: And now the shape forms further. Hooray! My mind? Gutter? Poor-innocent-little-me? Never! And that last line even has me scared . . . I think I'll quote you.  
  
Angelface04: Finally, you get more. Yes, they didn't like the idea of me auctioning Middle Earth, so I came up with this as a result of the one sale I managed to make. Sad.  
  
Firestar: Thanks. And thanks. And thanks. And I will.  
  
StarlightWarrior: I'm sorry, we seem to have pre-empted you on that. Read this to see what I mean.  
  
MeLAla: Continuing! Eventually. And unique? Really? I doubt it. I'm sure lots of other people wanted him.  
  
Liliac: You wanted more? And Boromir was resurrected by me and Sarah to sell in auction. We did, and this is how he ended up.  
  
And now, the long expected story.  
  
Huntress: I'm ready.  
  
Reaper: Excellent. Be prepared to initiate at a moment's notice.  
  
Huntress: Way ahead of you, Reaper.  
  
Huntress has signed off  
  
Raven: That told you.  
  
Reaper: Thank you, Raven, I don't need this.  
  
Raven: You know I can't help it, friend.  
  
Warrior: What is going on?  
  
Raven/Reaper: Don't worry, Warrior.  
  
Warrior: Ugh!  
  
Warrior has signed off  
  
Reaper: Well. I guess that's it, then.  
  
Raven: Yes.  
  
Reaper: Go in peace, Raven.  
  
Raven: Go in peace, Reaper.  
  
Raven has signed off  
  
Reaper has signed off  
  
* * * *  
  
Boromir folded the Lapt away again. These people were getting stranger by the moment. He'd been in Washing Ton for five days now, and as far as he could tell they had all been ready by the second day.  
  
The Gondorian warrior stood up and prepared to go back to the Hotel where he spent almost all of the time not used up sitting in the park watching this mysterious Hall. Then he stopped, hearing the sound of hooves.  
  
As he stood, wondering at this anomaly, three horses rounded the corner into the park. Their riders were cloaked and hooded, but even so, there seemed to be something familiar about them. Then the one at the front, the one on the whitest horse, said, "Hail Boromir," and the warrior recognised the voice.  
  
"My Lord Aragorn," he said, "how did you come to be here?"  
  
"I might ask the same question of you, friend, for I had supposed you to be dead," replied Aragorn, dismounting. Then he continued. "It was very odd. I was in Helms Deep, fighting against hordes of orcs, when suddenly I found myself transported to a small room. There waited a young man, who told me -"  
  
He was cut off by a 'bing' from the Lapt. As Boromir opened it up again, the other three - one of whom appeared to be an elf - stared in amazement. Then the Raven's face appeared on its window.  
  
"Hello, Warrior," said the image. "I managed to purchase some assistance for you. Aragorn, to be referred to as 'Ranger', you already know. I think you also met Haldir of Lorien, 'Archer', at one point in your travels. And the other is Eomer of Rohan, 'Rider'.  
  
"I dragged them all out of a battle at Helms Deep. Haldir had to be resurrected first, but -"  
  
Then David stepped into the picture. "Now then, Raven," he said, smiling, "don't take all the credit for that. You know that I was the one who did most of it. *And* that Huntress came up with the machine in the first place."  
  
"Yes," came a voice from outside the image, "and I'll thank you to remember it."  
  
David sighed. "Huntress, come into shot. We should let them see all of us."  
  
"Alright, I'm coming." After a second, a girl with long, flowing golden hair worthy of Rohan stepped in. "Hi, Warrior, Ranger, Archer, Rider," she said, "I'm Huntress. I'm your counterpart on this side of the ocean. That enough, Reaper?"  
  
David - Reaper - smiled. "Go on, get back to your job."  
  
Once she was gone, Reaper turned to the Raven and said, "I'd better be going too. Bye, dear."  
  
"Bye," she said as he walked off, then turned back to the camera.  
  
"Well," she said, "that's the team. Warrior, the other three have rooms booked at your hotel. Oh, and take good care of the horses - Shadowfax, Arod and Brego were the main reason I got these guys.  
  
"You know what you're supposed to be doing. The other three can help you gather information. Use them wisely, as time is running out. Go in peace. Raven out." And the screen flickered to black.  
  
Boromir looked at the three. This would make his job a whole lot easier. "Come on, people," he said. "We have a lot of work to do."  
  
* * * *  
  
Raven says:  
  
I will kill anyone who reads your story and dares to not review. Stalin's purges are nothing compared to the wrath of the Raven . . .  
  
So why risk it, when a review is such a simple thing?  
  
hS 


	4. Initiate

Hi! Hihihi!  
  
Scythe: All the people in my head agree. So I write more.  
  
StarlightWarrior: Yes, she is dangerous. Glad you like it. And I think e- mails are ok, if only because Ff.net can't confirm it's not your own idea.  
  
Raven Firedragon: Not *that* violent. But I'm glad you like it.  
  
Firestar: Yay, another person who likes my work!  
  
Velaineil: Um. Right. You like Haldir. I'm glad you like it.  
  
Yes, I'm back. Again.  
  
Raven: Where is Rider? We need everyone here!  
  
Reaper: Calm down, Raven.  
  
Raven: Calm. Warrior?  
  
Warrior: He's, um, busy.  
  
Raven: Doing what, pray?  
  
Ranger: Gathering information for you!  
  
Raven/Reaper: Shut up.  
  
Ranger: Oops.  
  
Huntress: Can we all please calm down?  
  
Archer: I agree with her.  
  
Raven/Reaper/Ranger/Warrior: Calm.  
  
Huntress: Good. Now, Raven, what was it you wanted?  
  
Raven: Huntress, initiate as soon as we finish here. Warrior - and your team, of course - go into high alert mode. We will give the signal when London is secure.  
  
Warrior/Huntress: Roger that.  
  
Huntress: I won't fail you, Raven.  
  
Raven: I know you won't. Go in peace.  
  
Huntress: In peace.  
  
Warrior: I guess we'd better go too?  
  
Reaper: That might be advisable.  
  
Raven: They didn't even say goodbye.  
  
Reaper: How rude.  
  
Raven: Yes. Quite.  
  
Reaper: You may want to log off too.  
  
Raven: So might you, friend.  
  
Reaper: True. Go in peace, Raven.  
  
Raven: Go in peace, Reaper.  
  
* * * *  
  
The day passed without incident. All through the night, Boromir had at least one of his team watching the Lapt, ready to go at any time. But the new day dawned, and still nothing had happened. Then it came.  
  
At around one o'clock on that bright spring afternoon, the Lapt beeped. Boromir went over to it and lifted the screen. An image of the Raven appeared.  
  
"Warrior," she said, "we're finished here. Begin your operation. Raven out."  
  
At these simple words, Boromir's blood ran cold. Were they ready? For a moment, doubt froze him. Then he forced himself to relax. They were ready. They had to be.  
  
The four Middle Earthers walked up the main street, heading for the Hall. [Note: I have never been to America. I have no idea what Washing Ton is like. So I'm making all the geography up. No worries, right?] They had been assured by the Reaper that an 'accidental nuclear discharge in the atmosphere has charged the ionosphere and cut off all intercontinental satellite communication'. Boromir didn't understand any of this, but apparently it meant that Washing Ton didn't know what had happened in Lon Don, where Huntress was working. So that was nice.  
  
The Hall was before them now. Boromir looked up at the towering building, and then reached into his pocket for the things he had received at the beginning of the mission. Four rings, each with the power to make the wearer invisible. In silence, he handed one to each of his companions, and as one they donned them.  
  
Immediately the world turned grey. Boromir looked around in amazement. So this is what Frodo had seen when he donned the Ring. How very odd. Ah, well, at least he could still see the other three. Gesturing to them, the four crept up the path and into the Hall.  
  
The US Congress was meeting, and as usual the noise level was stupidly high. So high that no one heard Boromir, Aragorn, Haldir and Eomer as they walked, still invisible, to the platform at the centre. Then they removed their rings.  
  
Immediately all conversation ceased. The sound of three swords being drawn, and of one bow being strung, rang clear as a bell. Boromir let them stare for a moment, then spoke.  
  
"Your rule has been deemed ineffectual. You are all scheduled for execution. This country will be turned over to the Raven. Now-"  
  
But he got no further. From the back of the room came a loud sound, like thunder, and the Warrior felt a pain like that of an arrow - how well he remembered that - in his shoulder. As Haldir's bow sang, sending a Lorien arrow towards the source of the sound, and as similar 'bang's rang out from other areas of the chamber, the Warrior looked down to see blood pouring out from a small hole. He began to feel light-headed, and as Aragorn grabbed him and dragged him out of the room, he wondered how everything had gone so terribly wrong . . .  
  
* * * *  
  
So, what did you think? How about a review, yeah? We would be very grateful.  
  
hS 


	5. External Assistance

So, how are you all?  
  
StarlightWarrior: World domination is cool! And I read your fic on it . . . very odd. Well done.  
  
Firestar: Er . . . there was no C5 at that time. Glad you like it.  
  
Yes, I'm still here. Here's the next part.  
  
Raven: Oh my God, what has he done???  
  
Reaper: We need to get out there, right now!  
  
Raven: I doubt we'll be able to sort this out ourselves. We'll need assistance.  
  
Huntress: I'm coming with you.  
  
Raven: Not quite what I meant.  
  
Reaper: Raven . . . what are you planning?  
  
Raven:   
  
Reaper/Huntress: Oh, gods . . .  
  
* * * *  
  
Boromir groaned as he woke. His arm *hurt*! It was almost as bad as dying, although at least this time it was only one wound. Keeping his eyes shut, he listened.  
  
There was at least one person in the room with him, with possibly another. The room was rather small, about the size of the hotel room, which is what he guessed it was. And there was no birdsong. Either they'd finally gotten soundproofing installed, or it was nighttime.  
  
He opened his eyes, and gazed at the ceiling. It was, indeed, the hotel room, and by the light it was also night. Then two faces appeared in his field of vision: Eomer and Aragorn. But where was Haldir? Boromir made to rise, but Aragorn placed a hand on his uninjured shoulder and said, "Rest, my friend. You have lost a lot of blood."  
  
Boromir tried to speak, but at first his voice was a mere croak. Eventually, he managed to say, "Haldir. Where is . . . Haldir?"  
  
A shadow crossed Aragorn's face. "I'm sorry, but . . . well, after he started shooting they must have decided to aim at him first, and . . ." The king lifted his hand from Boromir's shoulder, and the warrior saw the elf's lifeless body on the other bed. "Oh."  
  
"Indeed."  
  
Both were silent for a moment, until a thunderous knocking at the door disturbed them. Aragorn gestured to Eomer to answer it. The Rider of Rohan moved over, opened the door a fraction, and peered out.  
  
Before he could move, he was thrown back as the door was kicked open from the other side. But instead of the armed Americans that Boromir was expected, in through the door stepped, a girl with flowing black hair, followed by another with long golden hair and a brown-haired boy.  
  
The Raven stopped in the middle of the room, Huntress and Reaper standing behind her, and looked at the Middle Earthers. After a moment, she said, "Well, I see you've managed to get rid of the elf. David? Deal with it."  
  
Reaper - David - nodded. "Yes, my lady. Come on, Sarah, we've got work to do." The two moved over to Haldir's body and began to set up equipment around him. "What are you doing?" asked Aragorn.  
  
"He has to be sent back," explained the Raven. "Boromir we dragged out of a river, but Haldir has to be found later. Probably by you."  
  
Aragorn nodded. "Right. I see. Shame he couldn't live, really."  
  
There was a bright flash from the other bed, and Haldir, plus all the equipment around him, vanished. Boromir blinked. "Won't . . . someone notice . . . all that metal . . . around the body?" he croaked. David shook his head. "The teleporter just sent itself back to base. It does that." The warrior nodded, even though he had no idea what the boy meant. *Best to humour him*, he thought.  
  
The Raven spoke again. "Well, Boromir, I see you messed up the subtle approach. Never liked it anyway. Now, we try it my way."  
  
"And what is 'your way'?" asked Eomer. The girl nodded at the window, to which Aragorn and Eomer now moved. "Oh, my . . ." they said as one. Raven, Reaper and Huntress joined them, and looked down at the street below.  
  
Down the road, the moonlight sparkling off their armour, marched a thousand Elf warriors, in perfect step.  
  
* * * *  
  
Yes, I know it's overkill, but she asked for it, honest! And sorry to all you Haldir fans, but with all these other elves around . . .  
  
How about a review or two, yeah?  
  
hS 


	6. Resistance Is Futile

Yes, I'm back.  
  
DarkNoldorDrow: Yay!bThanks, I'm glad you like it, and I'm glad you think it's different.  
  
Lozh da orlando bloom lover: Uh . . . right. Funnily, no-one else seems to share your opinion. Sorry, but I think I'll continue anyway.  
  
Raven Firedragon: Yes, I thought you'd like that. Thanks. And do you mean apart from . . . um . . . actually, what *have* they ever done for us?  
  
StarlightWarrior: Maybe it's just the fact that he's an elf. Okay, I'll continue. And sorry! I forgot to review! /Hits self on head/ Yay! Mini- balrogs versus flamers! Who will win? (Hey, actually, that sounds like a nice story idea . . .)  
  
So, with all those replies done, we now move onto the story.  
  
Warrior: How's it going?  
  
Raven: Oh, you should see this. I wish you were here.  
  
Warrior: Well, I'm not. I'm still stuck in this bed.  
  
Raven: Oh, well. Nevermind, I'm sure ranger and Rider will tell you all about it when they get back.  
  
* * * *  
  
David stood on a hilltop with the Raven and Sarah. Down below, the security guards outside the Hall had been slaughtered, and the elven army - resurrected from the Last Alliance's Siege of Barad-Dur, as he recalled - were dragging the members of the US Congress out onto the field. The president was the last out, being sat down unceremoniously with his government.  
  
[A/N: Look, I know nothing about the US government, so I'm making this all up. It doesn't really matter, because . . . well, you'll see]  
  
Aragorn and Eomer rode up to the hill on Brego and Arod. Raven, of course, had Shadowfax with her.  
  
"My lady," said Aragorn, "this appears to be all. We cannot guarantee there are none hidden in the roof or somesuch, but . . ."  
  
"My thanks, Lord Aragorn," she replied, slipping into her 'gracious leader' mode. "I will survey the prisoners before determining their fate."  
  
The black-haired girl mounted Shadowfax and, David and Sarah following behind on foot, rode down to the field. She stopped in front of the President.  
  
"Ah," she said, looking down at him, "Mr Bush. So nice of you to join us. Allow me to explain a few things. I'm from the country you've been trying to annex, Britain. Your little friend Blair is no longer in charge there. I am. I am also in charge here. You can either surrender your country now, or do this the hard way. The choice is yours."  
  
George Bush stared at her as if she was insane. Finally, he drawled, "I am the President of the United States of America, the most powerful country in the world, and we will not surrender to the likes of you."  
  
The Raven smiled. "Ah, well, that's up to you." She looked up, surveying the massed ranks of the US government. "Any of you want to join me?"  
  
No one moved. Finally, she sighed. "Well, you can't say I didn't give you the chance. David? Plan C."  
  
The three moved back to the hilltop where Aragorn and Eomer waited. David, assisted by Sarah, got out a camera and satellite dish arrangement. As he did, the Raven said to the two Middle-Earthers, "This set-up was designed by Huntress. It'll allow us to transmit the images we record to all television stations across the country, so everyone will see. It's useful."  
  
David signalled to her, and she stepped in front of the camera. When the little red light came on, she looked straight into the lens and began to speak.  
  
Boromir was fiddling with the Tel-ee-vision when suddenly the Raven's face appeared. "Citizens of America," she said, "I am the Raven. I am standing in front of the building where your congress was, until a short while ago, meeting. Now, as you can see, they are assembled below here."  
  
The image zoomed in to show a lot of people, many of whom Boromir recognised from his disastrous attempt to take over. Around them stood a ring of Elf archers. The Raven's voice continued to speak.  
  
"Your president has refused to surrender control of his country to me, as have your congress. This attitude is unacceptable, and must be dealt with accordingly. Shoot them."  
  
With that, the elves each pulled out an arrow and fired it, in perfect unison. Over the screams of the dying government, the image panned back to the Raven. Staring straight at Boromir, she said, "This is what happens to those who argue with me. It's not a good idea. I'll see you soon."  
  
The image faded. Boromir sat there and watched the screen, smiling. So it was done.  
  
Or, more accurately, it had only just begun.  
  
* * * *  
  
So, how was it? I'm sorry if anything was inaccurate, but as I'm sure I mentioned, I've never been to America. But you can review anyway.  
  
hS 


	7. Return To Sender

I know I should update some of the others, but this one is so much easier.  
  
Raven Firedragon: Why do I think all this fame has gone to your head? It's not *real* . . . at least, not yet. Glad you like it, though.  
  
Celtic Dawn Star: I'm glad you like it. I read your stuff!  
  
StarlightWarrior: Oh, gods . . . Mr President, sir, it's not real, please don't launch any WMDs at me! Ahem . . . yes. Well. I like the idea of a mini-balrog. Do you know where I could get one? Preferably one that *can* eat MarySues.  
  
Velaineil: Why the sound effects?  
  
So, on with the story.  
  
Warrior: Nice show.  
  
Reaper: Thanks. But what's happening now isn't so nice.  
  
Warrior: What's that?  
  
Reaper: I'm trying to convince Raven to send some of your group back. And she's not taking it at all well . . .  
  
* * * *  
  
David shut the laptop and turned back to his friend. "Raven, we have to send them back. They'll be missed."  
  
She glared at him. "Aragorn, fine, he's dull. Eomer, also fine, I didn't really want him anyway. But you can *not* take my Shadowfax!"  
  
David sighed. "Look, I don't think you understand. Gandalf needs Shadowfax in order to make a dramatic ride down to Helm's Deep. He's necessary again later. If we don't send him back, the entire course of the War of the Rings could be changed!"  
  
She snorted. "So what? Why should I care? I don't want that world, just this one."  
  
David threw up his arms in despair. "You're impossible," he exclaimed, and walked over to where Sarah was standing with her teleporter, Aragorn and Eomer. As he arrived, Sarah looked up from where she was tweaking the settings on the teleporter, took one look at his face, and said, "You didn't convince her, then?"  
  
He shook his head. She sighed. "David, we have to get them out in the next half hour, or we lose the window."  
  
"Do you think I don't know that? That girl is so stubborn!"  
  
"Yes, bt we knew that already."  
  
David nodded. "I suppose so. It's just so annoying."  
  
Sarah looked at him. "um," she said, her voice uncertain. This was such a rare occurance that David lookede up. "What is it?"  
  
She squirmed under his gaze. "There's this . . . machine I've been working on. Sort of a side project. It . . . it could be useful. But it's a bit . . . unethical."  
  
David stared at her. "Sarah. What have you done now?"  
  
Boromir looked up as the door to the room he was stuck in swung back. In strode the Raven, followed by Huntress and Reaper, the latter carrying a phial of what appeared to be blood. Huntress was arguing loudly with the Raven.  
  
"I don't care what you say, I'm keeping the original!"  
  
"But Raven, he's trained to respond to Gandalf, whereas the clone might not be."  
  
"But it wouldn't respond to *me*, either!"  
  
You have time to train him! Gandalf's in the middle of a war!"  
  
"Look, I don't care. Shadowfax is mine!"  
  
The two continued in this vein as they moved through to the room Huntress had set up as her lab, taking with them the phial that Reaper - David - had been holding. When they were gone, David walked over to Boromir's bed.  
  
"Hi," said the boy. "They're just arguin about Shadowfax . . . still."  
  
The warrior nodded. "So I heard. What exactly are you planning on doing?"  
  
"Well," explained David, "in her spare time, Sarah built a cloning device. Um . . . that's a machine that makes an exact copy of any loiving creature you put a sample of into it. So now, instead of arguing over whether Shadowfax gets sent back or not, they get to argue over *which* Shadowfax gets sent back."  
  
Boromir nodded sagely. "The fun never ends" he commented.  
  
Any reply David might have made was cut off by a large explosion from the next room, and the sight of a horse, trailing smoke, rushing through the door and crashing out into the hallway. Raven and Huntress followed at a slightly more sane speed, and stood in the wrecked doorway.  
  
"Wow," said Huntress, "he's even faster than the original."  
  
"Good," replied the Raven, "now Gandalf won't mind taking the copy."  
  
"Alright," agreed Huntress, "but there's one problem."  
  
"And that is?"  
  
"We have to catch him again first . . ."  
  
With that, the two raced off towards the distant sound of hoofbeats. David shrugged at Boromir, then followed.  
  
* * * *  
  
Ah, another section finished. Please, leave a review for little me.  
  
hS 


	8. It Begins

Hiya!  
  
StarlightWarrior: Glad you like it. I'm sorry about the spelling, I'm using notepad for all my writing right now, so . . . //shrugs//. Yeek, now I see how long it is since I updated. I read both the OFUM stories, asked for, and received a Mini-Balrog, all between these two chapters. Sorry for the delay!  
  
Pointy Ears Are My Thing: Hey, her eyes are natural too! Don't pick on the Raven. Threats are indeed evil. As am I. Yup, we're all mad. Boromir won't die. I thought it would be nice to write a story without Lust Objects for once. I think I may have clumped Congress and the Senate together . . . what's the difference anyway? The clone got sent back, because the Raven keeps pestering me. Annoying girl.  
  
And now, more World Domination!  
  
Raven: Warrior, we require your presence immediately.  
  
Warrior: Certainly, my Lady. Where shall I go?  
  
Reaper: Come to the Great Hall. And watch yourself, she's *my* lady.  
  
Warrior:: As you wish.  
  
//Warrior has signed off//  
  
Raven: Why, Reaper, I'm touched.  
  
Reaper: Um, well . . . //blushes//  
  
* * * *  
  
Boromir entered the Hall, looking left and right at the changes. This was his first time out since his injury, and he wanted to put it to as good a use as possible. So he watched, and he learned.  
  
First off, the walls were being repainted. In place of the dull white of the previous administration, half were now black with a red trim. Several banks of chairs had also been removed, although they had not, as yet, been replaced.  
  
Drawing his attention back to his destination, he saw the Raven seated behind a desk on the centre platform, David and Sarah seated before her, along with an empty chair. On the wall behind her hung a world map, on which this country, the You Ess Ay, and the group's homeland, the You Kay, had been coloured with a red and black striped pattern. This, Boromir correctly surmised, represented those areas currently under the Raven's administration.  
  
He had reached the platform now, and the Raven noticed him. "Ah, Boromir. Do sit down."  
  
He did so, and waited. Soon, she began to speak.  
  
"I have summoned you three here to discuss our progress, and where we shall be going next. On the first point, I have good news. The Elves have suceeded in wiping out all but the last pockets of resistance to my rule, and expect to finish within the week. Which will leave them ready to take on our next target. David?"  
  
The Reaper stood and moved behind the desk, to the map. "We have sucessfully conquered the most powerful country in the world. However, when news of this gets out, the others will attempt to gain control. Therefore, we should target the group of nations most likely to oppose us - the EU.  
  
"The European Union also contains many of the countries in the UN and NATO, both organisations which could potentially topple us. Thus, taking it would kill three metaphorical birs with one deadly stone.  
  
"In order to complete this operation with the least bloodshed, I suggest that our initial strike be on two separate nations. The strongest two in the Union." He stabbed his finger in two locations on the map, and Boromir, along with the Raven and Huntress, leaned forward to see where he had indicated.  
  
"France and Germany."  
  
* * * *  
  
Once more, our plans come to fruition. Now, I'm going on holiday, so this is all you get for a while. I hope you enjoyed it!  
  
hS 


	9. Python Warfare

Ah, it's good to be home.  
  
Raven Firedragon: Elves who say Ni . . . there's no hope for you, is there? More? You want more? Don't I do enough for you already . . .  
  
Pointy Ears Are My Thing: Yes, I read all the reviews. Unfortunately, sodid the Raven, and she's not happy with your comment about her eyes. And no, Raven is the annoying girl, not you.  
  
StarlightWarrior: Yeah, well, Miss Cam is wonderful. She gave me a small firey evil demon, I just *have* to adopt her terms. Plus they're useful. Aiee! A Mary-Sue! A Mary-Sue is come! (But who invented the Mary-Sue? This could be an exciting research project for your holidays!)  
  
Uh . . . oh, I remember. A story. Is that what you want? Yes? Then I'll hand you over to the cast . . .  
  
Warrior: So, Great One, have you decided on a plan of action yet?  
  
Reaper: Warrior, I'm *warning* you . . .  
  
Warrior: Oh, come on Reaper, it was only a joke.  
  
Raven: Enough. Much as I appreciate you two fighting over me, this is not the time.  
  
Reaper/Warrior: Yes, Raven.  
  
Raven: Good. We're going for scenario C. Reaper, you're with me. Warrior, go and find Huntress. She'll tell you what to do.  
  
* * * *  
  
The Chancellor of Germany was seated in his office. Spread out on the desk before him were still more reports on this army that had taken over the USA and the UK. Now, personally he had no problem with this, having never gotten on with the leaders of those nations, but his country demanded action.  
  
Reaching across the desk, he lifted the phone that was hardwired to the office of his French counterpart. Putting it to his ear, he heard . . . nothing. No dial tone, nothing. Puzzled, he replaced the handset and was about to pick it up again when the ceiling collapsed.  
  
As the dust cleared he saw, under the hole that had appeared, a group consisting of five men with long blonde hair, one with short, brown and very dirty hair, and a girl with flowing golden locks. One of the blonde clones stepped forward, and the Chancellor, shocked but still remaining calm, asked, "Wer bist du?"  
  
The elf looked back at the rest of the strike team, puzzled. Boromir and the other four elves were equally confused, but Sarah supplied, "He asked who you are. But don't worry, he understands English. Just address him in that. If you aren't sure of a word, just ask me or Boromir."  
  
The elf – whose name Boromir couldn't recall at this time – turned back to the bemused Chancellor.  
  
"I'm glad you asked me that. We are the elves who say. . . Ni!" The elf paused as the other four echoed his last word. When they were finally silent, he continued. "If you do not come with us, we will say 'Ni' again, until you beg for mercy!"  
  
The Chancellor just stared. Sarah reached out and grabbed the elf by his collar. "You've been watching the Raven's old videos again, haven't you?" she hissed. The elf nodded mutely. "Well, just stick to the plan," she continued. He nodded once again, and turned back to his target.  
  
Mr. Chancellor, you are charged with being an ineffectual tool of a useless regime. As such, you will be delivered to the Elvish Inquisition for interrogation. Their main weapon is –"  
  
"Just shoot him, please," interrupted Sarah. The elf sighed, then pulled out his bow, set an arrow and shot the Chancellor.  
  
The last thing the man saw before the poison claimed his life was the girl raising a radio to her lips. The last thing he felt was a strange relief that the blonde man – elf - *thing* - had shot him rather than delivering him to their strange Inquisition. He had a strange feeling comfy chairs would have been involved . . .  
  
* * * *  
  
Well, that's that. Did anyone spot the Monty Python references? They're hidden pretty deep.  
  
Reviews make me happy . . .  
  
hS 


	10. Let the punishment

I'm back! Even though I have very few readers . . .  
  
StarlightWarrior: Yay! I'm glad you liked it!  
  
Raven Firedragon: Yes, the chair is here. Boromir as a nice guy is indeed a neglected topic. But hey, here it is. Wonderful author . . . yeesh.  
  
And here we have it: Chapter 10. I'm so proud . . .  
  
Raven: Warrior, Huntress, return to the London Citadel for a progress meeting.  
  
Huntress: Warrior's busy right now, but I'll relay the message. We'll be there.  
  
Raven: Good. Unit Commander number 571?  
  
#571: Yes, ma'am?  
  
Raven: We need you in London too. This time tomorrow. Be there.  
  
#571: Yes, ma'am.  
  
//#571 has signed off//  
  
Reaper: So obedient, aren't they?  
  
Raven: Don't push it, Reaper.  
  
* * * *  
  
Boromir entered the main chamber of the Raven's headquarters in Lon Don. This, like its counterpart in the You Ess Ay, had now been fully painted in the red and black of the Raven administration. On the centre of each wall was the symbol of the new government – the simple bird surmounted by what was apparently an 'omega' and with a Feanorian letter, Ore, under each wing. Boromir felt it was . . . appropriate.  
  
Behind him, Sarah, the Huntress, appeared in the doorway. "Come on, Boromir," she said, impatient, "we'll be late."  
  
Sighing, the Man moved on, down to the central platform where the Raven, David and one of the elves – clad in dress armour – were seated around a large wooden table, vaguely reminiscent of the one in the Great Chamber back home.  
  
The two took their seats, and the Raven began to speak. "We have achieved our goal. David and I, accompanied by several of our best commandos, infiltrated the French government building and planted a bomb, which erased all trace of their President from the Earth. Sarah? How did your side of the mission go?"  
  
The golden haired girl looked at her leader. "We entered the Chancellor's office and eliminated him. There was some . . . unauthorised activity by one of the commandos, but I'll raise that later."  
  
The Raven nodded, her eyes sparkling. "As you wish. Number five seventy-one, how is the cleanup going?"  
  
The elf rose. "We have successfully driven out the last occupants of the two governmental buildings, and are making great progress integrating the materiel of the two armies. However, losses incurred over the last few weeks lead me to request that the Lady Sarah bring in a few more of our comrades from . . . wherever it is."  
  
Boromir wondered at the choice of words, and then recalled that, where he had had the entire resurrection thing explained, it was deemed too complicated to tell the elves the whole story. So the unit commander was a little . . . confused.  
  
"He did *what*?" came the Raven's cry, startling the Gondorian out of his reflections. Sarah looked back at the black haired girl. "Your commando started quoting Monty Python in the middle of the operation" she repeated. The Raven sighed.  
  
"I knew I shouldn't have let him watch those videos. Hmm . . ." The girl – young woman – sat in thought for a moment, then seemed to come to a decision. "Such disobedience cannot go unpunished. What's that old saying? Let the punishment fit the crime . . . number 571, please bring in commando number 342. Escort him down to the special dungeon."  
  
It was a while later, and Boromir was passing through the Citadel, searching for Raven, Reaper or Huntress. All seemed to have disappeared, and the warrior was left with nothing to do. As he passed over the inlaid pattern in the floor – the Raven's symbol again, this time in polished ebony – he thought he heard a faint voice crying out in Sindarin. "No, please, not the red uniforms . . . Aiee! No! The comfy chair . . . no . . ."  
  
But he may have been mistaken.  
  
* * * *  
  
And there you are. Worship the Python. It is most Monty. (Or so they keep saying)  
  
And you can worship me too if you want. Or at least give me a review. Please?  
  
hS 


	11. Public Relations

Well, I've *finally* got back on track. Sorry about the delay.  
  
Pointy Ears Are My Thing: Well, I think she know's she's an Antichrist actually. I think it says in the Bible somewhere that there are thousands of Antichrists . . . where was that . . . You are a pineapple worshipper? Wow. I passed on your message to the Raven. She was slightly appeased. Not too much, though, or she wouldn't be my Raven.  
  
Silver Shadow Of Silence: What? You mean this isn't real? Aww . . . //Pouts//. Iceland? Mad!  
  
StarlightWarrior: Drat, no worshippers. Ah, well, I'll settle for the review. Yes, it's a nice combination. (Never mind the fact that LotR is about stopping world domination . . . that doesn't matter, honest!)  
  
Raven Firedragon: Maybe he learned from Legolas. Yay for the world! No, no evil laughs, EOs always get knocked down with those. But at least the Army of Elves have original uniforms. (See, I've studied it too!) Anyone reading should go to Eviloverlord.com. It's great!  
  
Welcome to the next chapter. Special offer at the end of this!  
  
Reaper: Everyone to the Great Hall *now*. We have news.  
  
Raven: At last!  
  
Huntress: Bloodthirsty girl.  
  
Raven: I'm bored. So sue me.  
  
* * * *  
  
Sarah and Boromir entered the red and black hall just as the Raven sat down. The pair descended the stone steps - slate, specially imported from Wales by David - passed over the Raven Seal, and joined their three comrades.  
  
As Boromir seated himself, he nodded to the others and commented, "I hope you dealt with that erring commando efficiently."  
  
The Raven smiled. "Oh, yes. His spell in the special dungeon was very . . . profitable. We all learned a lot."  
  
Boromir stared at her, trying to figure out what she had meant. Fortunately, David broke the silence before it could stretch too far.  
  
"My friends, we have a new target. Switzerland has decided that our control of the countries on its borders cannot be tolerated. At approximately nine fifteen this morning, they broke their long term neutrality and organised heir army on the German border."  
  
The Raven laughed. "Perfect!" When the others looked at her strangely, she elaborated. "For one thing, with their army out trying to attack us, they won't be defending their centre. For another, David's been to Switzerland, and knows where their government can be found. And, finally," she laughed again, "Switzerland is the main international banking centre. Where better to finance our operation from?"  
  
All four stared at her. Then, eventually, David shook himself. "Sarah," he said, turning to the golden-haired girl, "can we use one of your portals to get past the border guards?"  
  
She shook her head. "Sorry, David. You know that technology is Ispace copyrighted. It's all I can do to keep them off our backs as it is."  
  
David sighed. "Ah, well. I guess we'll have to use ordinary infiltration. Unit Commander 571, are your troops ready?"  
  
"They are indeed," replied the elf. "The reinforcements pulled from the Battle have been fully integrated, and we are back at full strength."  
  
"Excellent. You shall accompany Sarah and Boromir on their infiltration to ensure there is no more unauthorised activity. Take five of your best commandos with you."  
  
Number 571 nodded, and David smiled. "Now, that's all the news on this operation. I'll forward the full plan to you when it's ready. However, there is other news. I have, with the able assistance of Sarah," he smiled at her, "completed the the poster to inform everyone of the Raven's rule." With that, he stepped up and pulled aside the curtain that covered where the world map usually was.  
  
Boromir leaned back in shock at the huge eye before him - Was it Sauron? - but quickly sat again as he realised that it was just the poster David had been going on about.  
  
The balck sheet was broken at the centre by the huge eye that had first caught Boromir's attention. Around this, in red Roman letters, were some words. Boromir still wasn't too good at reading English, so it took a short time to figure it out. When he did, however, he almost laughed out loud. 'The Raven Is Watching You . . .'  
  
He just had time to take in the white rendition of the Raven Seal in the lower right corner before the Raven's laugh broke the silence. "So *that's* why you needed a picture of my eye!" she exclaimed.  
  
David smiled. "What, you thought I just wanted it for no reason?"  
  
"Well, no, but . . . Sarah, Boromir, Commander, you can leave now. We'll give you the details when they're sorted. Now scram."  
  
As the thre ascended the stairs, the raised voices of David and the Raven started up again, both tinged with amusement.  
  
"I *thought* you wanted it because . . ."  
  
* * * *  
  
What is so funny? Who is Unit Commander 571? What does That Poster actually look like? Find out . . . well, you'll never find out the answer to the first one. The second will, I think, be in the next chapter.  
  
And the last? Well, you can find out now. Email me at huinesoron@hotmail.com and I'll send you a copy in JPEG format. Don't ask in a review, because I won't respond. But you can still review anyway.  
  
This is a serious offer, and I am providing it free of charge. Mainly because I have no way of getting money out of anyone, but hey . . .  
  
hS 


	12. Gruenen Taelern

I'm back!  
  
Pointy Ears Are My Thing: Hoom, hoom. I assume you know by now that it wasn't the eye thing she was annoyed about. And I'm glad you review a lot. Thank you.  
  
Raven Firedragon: I'm glad you like it! And I've written more, is this good enough?  
  
Pointy Ears Are My Thing: Ugh! Even the thought of not having Internet access is sickening to me!  
  
And now, on with the psychosis.  
  
Huntress: Team is in position.  
  
Raven: Excellent. You remember your objectives?  
  
Huntress: We do.  
  
Raven: Warrior? Do you remember your special instructions?  
  
Warrior: Yes, Raven. Reaper explained them to me at length.  
  
Raven: Excellent. Then initiate.  
  
* * * *  
  
An explosion rocked the Swiss government building in Bern. As the smoke cleared in the President's office, a man, a girl and six elves stared at an empty desk. There was a long silence.  
  
Finally, Sarah said, "Well, that's a minor setback. UC 571, step outside and find out what's going on, please." The elf nodded, and moved to the door.  
  
The thick door was locked, but the elf reached into his robe and pulled out a telescoping spear. The handle was, Boromir noted, made from the funny Plass Tick that people made so much use of, but the tip was good, old fashioned metal. It was covered in elven carvings, and seemed somehow . . . familiar.  
  
The elf extended the spear to its full length, swing it down . . . and sliced through the metal of the door lock as if it were paper. Instantly, Boromir recalled where he had seen the spear design before - in an old picture of the armies of the Last Alliance. But if the spear was Aeglos, then that would mean that the elf was . . .  
  
"W-was möchtest du?" said a quavering voice, startling Boromir from his thoughts. He noted that number 571 had dragged in a frightened clerk-type person into the room. Sarah smiled at the bespectacled man.  
  
"Sprechen sie English?" she asked. The man nodded, trying to control his shaking hands. Sarah smiled. "Good. I am Huntress," she said, speaking slowly. "Where is the President?"  
  
The man frowned, and then worked it out. "Herr President is . . . he and the Federal Council have gone to Kandersteg to . . . how you say, inspect the Army base there."  
  
Sarah nodded. "Danke schön. Five seven one, you can let him go now."  
  
The elf nodded, and dropped the terrified man, who scuttled out into the corridor. Sarah looked at her team. "Well," she said, "you heard the man. We have some travelling to do. Boromir, take the team out to the river. I've got some things to buy."  
  
An hour or so later, Boromir was having the most fun he had in ages. As a river - he hadn't bothered to find out the name - ran all the way from Bern to the other place, Kandersteg, Sarah had decided that the simplest way to get there was by boat. Or rather, raft.  
  
But this wasn't a smooth ride, oh no. The river ran down hill for the whole ten league stretch, and much of it was rocky. Boromir, who hadn't done this sort of thing for years - the elven boats didn't really count, that had been too calm - was soaked to the skin after having fallen in twice. Despite that, he was exhilarated.  
  
All too soon, the journey came to an end. The boat came to a halt just upriver of Kandersteg Town, where a glacier-melt stream joined the river, turning the water pale grey. As the eight jumped out, Boromir glanced up . . .  
  
. . . to see a beautiful sight. Mountains as majestic as those that rose near his homeland towered above the green valley, sunlight glinting off the glaciers at their peaks. Sarah noticed his distraction, followed his gaze, and smiled. "Yes, it got me like that the first time too," she said. Then she added, in a brisk tone, "There'll be plenty of time for sightseeing later. Right now, we have a job to do."  
  
As the team wandered up the road to the town, looking for all the world like a group of tourists, Boromir moved over to beside Number 571. Without preamble, he said, "You're Gil-Galad. Aren't you?"  
  
The elf looked over at him, and nodded. "I was Ereinion Gil-Galad, the High King of the Elves of Middle Earth. Now I am unit commander five seventy- one, servant of the almighty Raven. I have yet to decide which is a better life."  
  
Boromir would have continued the conversation, but the government party appeared. The group were surrounded by bodyguards, but they were not reckoning on the skills of the elves of Arda. Not fighting skills, in this case, but elven magic. Gil-Galad began to sing.  
  
Not just any song, but a powerful song from the First Age of the Sun. It was the song that Luthien Tinuviel had sung in the fortress of Morgoth. It had enough power to send even one of the Valar to sleep. On Earth it was not so potent, but the entire group nevertheless fell into a deep slumber in the road.  
  
When the elf lord gave the signal, the seven members of his team removed their earplugs and moved forward. They checked each member of the President's group, consulted Sarah's printout of the faces of the government members, and shot anyone on the Federal Council in the head.  
  
Once they were sure all were accounted for, they dropped one of David's posters among the sleeping bodyguards and left the vicinity. As they did so, Sarah got out her Lapt Op and let Gil-Galad call in his troops. By the time the Elves attacked, Boromir, Sarah and Gil-Galad were well on their way back to Lon Don, where the Raven awaited them.  
  
* * * *  
  
Right, that's that. I've only had one request for a poster. Doesn't anyone else want one? Just mail me at huinesoron@hotmail.com. I won't bite, honest.  
  
Failing that //sigh// how about a review?  
  
hS 


	13. The Calm Before The Storm

After all this time . . .  
  
Pointy Ears Are My Thing: Insomnia . . . no internet . . . hmm. I'm sure others read it, it's just they don't bother to review. //Glares out at the lurkers// And the Raven doesn't *have* to like it . . .  
  
Raven Firedragon: Hehehe . . . I'm glad you like it. And I did eventually get round to more . . . eventually.  
  
Pointy Ears: Like Stephen King? Ooh, nice. Er . . . she hasn't told *me* what she's planning yet . . . is there something I ought to know? Ooh, real hobbits. Scary indeed. Ahh! Huggy attack!  
  
StarlightWarrior: Only quite good? Well, thanks anyway.  
  
Hirilnara: //Smiles// Eye poster here, Legolas over in Pancakes.  
  
And so, we move on to . . .  
  
Raven: Oh Warri-or . . .  
  
Warrior: Yes, Raven?  
  
Raven: Get yourself and Huntress down to the Great Hall, would you? Reaper, #571 and I are already here, and we're waiting for you two.  
  
Warrior: We will be there momenterily, my Lady.  
  
Raven: Good. And stop being so formal.  
  
//Raven has signed off//  
  
Warrior: Yes, my Lady . . .  
  
* * * *  
  
Boromir and Sarah entered the Hall and strode down the stairs. The warrior never even looked at the decor any more, so familiar had it become. As they reached the table, the Raven began to speak.  
  
"My friends, we have conquered Switzerland. The heart of Europe is ours. We have an impressive military and economic advantage over the rest of the world. But we've been working too hard."  
  
She paused, and glanced around at the four seated at the table. "Although David and I have remained here, you three have done a lot of travelling. So we have decided it's time for a break. The renovation of London," - Boromir noted that she pronounced it as one word, something he had yet to master - "is almost complete. What say we go and take a look around?"  
  
Boromir looked up. "I, that is, we would like that very much, my Lady."  
  
She smiled. "Excellent. Then we need wait no longer. David, you've got the camera? Good. Let's go."  
  
Reaching under the desk, she flicked a switch. A door opened in the apparently solid wall, and the five quickly left. The guards, outside the main door, remained blissfully ignorant.  
  
Some time later, Boromir and Sarah were seated in a comfortable room on the top floor of the Lon Do . . . the *London* Citadel. They were browsing through the pictures which David had taken of the re-designed capital. The huge banners of the Raven poster on the Tower of London. The Crown Jewels, still kept inside that same building but now out, free for anyone who was allowed entry (and there were few who were) to touch and examine. One photo which Sarah particularly liked showed her dressed up in all the jewels she could fit, and Boromir bowing down before her.  
  
Then there were the shots taken from the London Eye - which now, naturally enough, had a reproduction of the Raven's eye on it - of the city as a whole. The comandeered RAF fighters had done a thorough job of dropping paint across the rooftops, and the images, although skewed by perspective, clearly showed the huge Raven Seal in red and black.  
  
Many others there were, of the Raven riding Shadowfax, of David amid the ruins of Buck Ing Ham Palace, and of Gil-Galad harassing ducks in a random park. But the picture both Sarah and Boromir liked the most showed the two of them, seated together atop a hige, sprawling tree in Hyde Park. It had been only a short climb - the tree was far wider than it was high - but it had given them an amazing view across the park.  
  
Sarah had just flicked over the last photo and stored them all away when there came a screech Boromir remembered all to well - a Ringwraith. He drew his sword and hunted for the source of the sound, waiting for it to die down, but it went on and on. It was only when Sarah grabbed her Lapt Op and flipped it open that the sound stopped. However, the look on the girl's face that followed was almost worse. Her eys skimmed the text, and then she abruptly shut the machine down. Turning to Boromir, she stared at him with wide eyes.  
  
"We must call a general meeting, immediately. Something terrible has happened."  
  
* * * *  
  
But of course, you have to wait until next time to find out. I'll give you a hint, though . . . it'll involve a tri-story crossover (at least!).  
  
Oh, and if anyone wants one of those posters, they're still up. huinesoron@hotmail.com, people. All free.  
  
hS 


	14. A Battle Joined

Here I am again! It's been a long time.  
  
Hirilnara: Yes, it's that crossover. And I'm afraid writing took a *little* longer than I expected . . .  
  
Pointy Ears Are My Thing: No, I'm allowed to do whatever I like because I'm the author around here. This is my ficverse you're in, and I have all the power! Muahaha etc. And she doesn't have to like it, 'cos she can suggest changes. Okay, so good things happen in your life too. Well done. And I'll avoid making her an Agent until she asks. Happier?  
  
Woo, four whole reviews, three form the same person. Ah, well . . . //sigh//.  
  
Now, where was I? Oh, yes. This chapter is a crossover with 'Ispace' and 'Pancakes'. Also with Hirilnara's 'Diary of a Pancake Fangirl', but that won't be up for a while. So, without any further blathering, here it is . . .  
  
Huntress: Emergency! Everyone to the Great Hall *now*!  
  
Raven: Huntress, what is it?  
  
Huntress: Just do it!  
  
* * * *  
  
Boromir raced through the corridors of the Citadel after Sarah. The pair reached the Hall doors at the same instant as David, Gil-Galad and the Raven skidded round the corner, so Sarah stood in front of the door and, rather than going in, said, "Fangirls have launched an assault on one of the Elves of Middle-Earth. Ispace is helping him fight them off, along with a team led by Legolas, but the onslaught is too strong."  
  
The Raven looked calmly back at her. "You want us to go and help them out, yes?"  
  
Sarah, out of breath, merely nodded. The Raven thought for a moment, and then shrugged. "Why not? It might get your people off my back for a while. Gil-Galad, are your troops ready?"  
  
The elf nodded. "They are fully prepared for battle, as always."  
  
"Excellent. In that case, Sarah, it's up to you now. Take us there."  
  
The front line of the Raven's army came upon the Fangirls from behind. The battle-hardened elves made quick work of the horde, but ever more appeared. Soon, the five commanders were split into two groups.  
  
Boromir, Sarah and Gil-Galad found themselves stuck with the elven troops in the rear of the fangirl swarm. As they fought, a girl in a lilac cloak joined them. Looking over at her, Sarah said, "Oh, hi Liliac."  
  
"Hey Sarah," came the reply, "glad you could make it. Having fun?"  
  
Sarah span and impaled a drooling fangirl on her borrowed spear. "Oh, definitely."  
  
Liliac smiled grimly. "Good, good. Wouldn't want . . . oh dear Eru. LEGOLAS! BEHIND YOU!"  
  
Boromir saw his old friend spin around to confront a fangirl with a length of rope. He had only a moment to look, however, before a sheet of flame obscured the scene from view. Trusting in the will of the Valar, the Gondorian warrior turned back to the fighting.  
  
As for David and the Raven, they found themselves separated from the team and pushed ever inwards, until they came to the very heart of the battle. There, at the very threshold of the cavern all this was aiming to defend, four figures fought tirelessly. One, an elf clad in black who used fireballs to defend himself, nodded at them.  
  
"I'm Huinesoron," he cried over the mixed noise of slaughter and fangirl squeals. "I'm afraid I'm the reason you're here. Come on, give us a hand!"  
  
The two joined the group, not having much choice in the matter. They had no time to look at their companions and make out details. The battle wore on, for how long none could say. Eventually, however, the last of the fangirls was dispatched, and David and the Raven had time to introduce themselves.  
  
"Oh," said the red-cloaked woman, "you're the people Sarah spends all her time with, right?"  
  
"That's us," agreed David. The woman smiled.  
  
"I'm Rachel. I run the Supplies section of Ispace. Pleased to meet you."  
  
"As for us," came a new voice, " we're from the PPC."  
  
The two turned, to see a pair dressed all in black, each wearing a badge showing a flame on their left shoulder.  
  
"Agents Dafydd and Selene," said the male agent. "I'll leave you to guess which is which."  
  
"Department of Geographical Aberrations," added Selene. The Raven frowned.  
  
"So what are you doing here?" she asked. Agent Dafydd shrugged.  
  
"An old friend of mine from Ispace came and got us. Speaking of which, we'd better get back before the Mallorn misses us." With that, the agent pulled out a strange device, opened a rectangular door in the air, and stepped through, followed by his partner.  
  
David looked out at the battlefield, at the figures of Boromir, Sarah and Gil-Galad picking their way over the fangirl corpses towards hem.  
  
"Well," he said, "that was fun."  
  
* * * *  
  
Phew. All finished. Now, all I need to do is come up with a next chapter. And make some of those pictures mentioned in the last chapter, o'course.  
  
So, bye for now, and hopefully I'll have another update before New Year.  
  
hS 


End file.
